I spent 17 years as a firefighter, the last few as a station commander. One moment, I was managing national-level projects and leading teams in burning buildings. The next, my career was cut short by medical retirement.
My new role? Stay-at-home dad to two kids, ages 12 and 9.
I thought I’d be great at it. I knew how to stay calm under pressure, delegate, and adapt in a crisis. But day one hit hard. While I’d always done my share at home, my family knew that now I had “nothing else to do,” which meant I was now asked to do a lot more. And while that’s what stay-at-home parents have always been tasked with, it was a new kind of emergency for me.
Suddenly, I was responsible for packed lunches, school runs, grocery logistics, and a laundry system that actively fought back. (How do four people generate a wash load per day?)
It felt like being deployed into a burning building without a hose.
It may sound strange, but at home, I fell back on many of the same tools I’d relied on in the fire service, the habits and strategies that had helped me get through life-or-death situations. They’d worked in emergencies, and to my surprise, they worked in the kitchen, too.
Do the worst job first
On shift, we tackled the toughest or riskiest task right away. Waiting made it harder. Now at home, I empty the dishwasher, take the trash out, and start laundry before my first coffee.
I don’t do these things because I’m some productivity zealot. I just hate those jobs. Doing them early means I don’t dread them all day, and I’m a lot less likely to lose my temper with my kids because of chores hanging over me.
Not every emergency is a five-alarm fire
One thing you learn quickly on the job: you can’t fight every fire at once. You choose what matters right now — what’s urgent and important — and focus on that.
That same thinking now guides my mornings. Just like when I’d jump off the fire truck into yet another disaster, every breakfast I pause, scan the “scene,” and assess what really needs handling first.
That sports permission slip that’s due tomorrow? Important. Not urgent. The last slice of bread, seconds from burning in that useless toaster? Urgent and important. My son’s complaint that his fruit has “squishy bits”? Neither. I’ll revisit the (futile) vitamin C chat later. Prioritizing like this reduces wasted energy.
Look for patterns — and act early
In the fire service, we looked for repeat problems — same street, same issue, same hazard — then we intervened before the fire started. At home, I started noticing which food I was always throwing out (looking at you, spinach and tomatoes). I just buy those things far less often, now.
I also learned to spot the conversations that sparked the biggest arguments with my kids. Most of my cooking, for example, is apparently deemed poisonous by their picky palates. So, I started letting the kids plan the menu in advance (with some steering from me). Now there are fewer complaints. Leadership isn’t just about control, it’s also about foresight.
Set time limits — and stick to them
If you give firefighters 10 minutes to roll a hose, they’ll take 10. If you give them five, somehow, that’s still enough time to get the job done.
That’s how bedtime works in our house now. I set a timer for toothbrushing or changing into PJs. It’s not militant, it’s a game. The kids race each other. Sure, there’s eye-rolling, but things get done, and no one’s sobbing into their pillow.
Put your own oxygen mask on first
One of the first lessons in fire safety: take care of yourself, or you can’t help anyone else.
After 17 years of high-stakes leadership, this work — quiet, unpaid, invisible — can feel like losing my identity. But if I clear the decks early using techniques like these, I can liberate time to do what feeds me: writing. That gives me space to remember who I am beyond chores and snack schedules, which makes me a calmer and kinder parent and partner.
I didn’t invent any of this. Stay-at-home parents — mostly women — have been doing it forever, mostly without using spreadsheets or getting any medals for their work. But if you’re overwhelmed and trying to get through the day without yelling, these old firehouse strategies might help.
You don’t need a uniform. Just a timer, some humor, and maybe a better toaster.
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